


From the grave to the stage (you're a natural, babe)

by OhGoshOhJeez



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Death, Immoral Science, Kidnapping, Kinda, Stalking, Temporary Blindness, Torture, Violence, but its only for a few minutes, lab rat Paul
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:34:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22864141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhGoshOhJeez/pseuds/OhGoshOhJeez
Summary: Based on a tweet by nick lang on the hypothetical scenario of Melissa using the softball league to kidnap Paul.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 35





	1. take me out to the ball game

“Hi, Paul!” Melissa said, almost skipping up to his desk, she was smiling wide, her glasses falling down her nose slightly. “I was wondering if you wanted to join the company softball league. I can sign you up!”

Paul smiled at her, but didn’t take his eye away from the computer monitor, still typing furiously. He needed to finish his data analysis by the end of the day or Mister Davidson would probably end up strangling him.

“Uh yeah.” He said. In all honesty he was only half listening to what she was saying.

“Great!” She beamed, placing a clipboard in front of him, clicking her pen and setting it down on top. “Just add your address here.”

She watched him as he filled out the form, her smile drooping slightly, then when he was done she straightened, and grinned.

“Thanks! I’ll see you around!”

Paul gave a lazy ‘bye’ and went back to typing. No one noticed Melissa’s cold and determined stare as she exited the room.

  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
She’d actually had her eye on Paul for a while. 

He was a nice, decent man. Often times he’d call out bad workplace behaviour, one time even started talking to her to stop Ted from trying to flirt. He brought everyone back coffee from Beanies, even though it almost always ended with him spilling something down his shirt.

He was 6’’2. She’d noticed he’d never taken a day off since they’d met, implying that he kept in good health. She’d seen him reach from the high shelves in the breakroom and noticed the hidden muscle beneath his shirt. All things considered, he was a perfect, healthy specimen.

Which was exactly what she needed.

It wasn’t hard to break into his house, he kept a spare key under a plant pot on his porch. She reminded herself to scold him for it later, safety is always a priority.

She crept up his staircase, flinching everytime the floor would creak underneath her shoes.

He was sleeping soundly, which was a small miracle, it made everything that much easier. 

He never even managed to get a noise out before she stuck a needle in his neck, pushing the plug fast, the liquid travelling into his veins. His body tensed, then went slack as the medicine did its job.  
Now for the hard part, she thought, getting him back home.

  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
Melissa panted as she turned the key, smiling as the truck’s engine roared to life. It was difficult, dragging him down the stairs and out of his house, but at least he lived in a remote area, no cameras or nosy neighbours to be seen. 

She fixed her hair and looked at his body in the front view mirror. Thank gosh she’d rented a truck, her tiny car would never have been able to store him. 

She sighed with relief, her plan was going smoothly.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Paul awoke with a ringing in his ears and a sharp pain in his head. He groaned, his eyelids feeling too heavy to open. His mouth was dry, when he tried to speak he ended up coughing.

“You’re awake!”

He heard a familiar voice say.

He tried once more to open his eyes and was greeted with a bright, white light. He squinted and moved his head to the side.

His vision was blurry and he blinked repeatedly. He heard a high pitched chuckle from somewhere in the room. 

“Ohh...” He groaned. “Wha...What happened?” His voice came out slow, his words slurred.

“Oh! Yes, I’m sorry, I’ll explain everything, I promise, but first, you should drink something. I’m sorry, I only have water, I haven’t had time to go shopping and-”

“Melissa?” He asked, “‘s that you? What’re you doing inmy....In my house?”

“We’re not in your house, silly!”

“Huh?” He raised his head, finally looking around at the room.

He was in a basement.

“Are we at soft....Softball?” His head fell back down onto something hard, metallic.

“No, ha- I’m so sorry, I must have given you too much.”

“Too much ‘f what?”

“Sedative!” She said, cheerily.

Paul suddenly felt very awake, and tried to sit up fast, only to be stopped by leather straps wrapped around his chest and ankles.

“What the fuck- Where am I?! Melissa, where am I?”

She raised her hands in a calming gesture, and walked up beside him, a concerned look on her face.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay! You’re in my house.”

He looked to his side and realized that he was strapped down to a silver table, one that you might have found in an operating room.

“Melissa, this isn’t funny, if this is some kind of prank you guys are pulling on me, I- I don’t like it-”

“There’s no one else, Paul! It’s just little old me.” She gave him a cheesy smile, and tried to reach out to touch his hair. He flinched away and she retracted her hand.

“Why am I in your house? Why am I tied down? What’s going on?”

“I promised you that I’d explain everything and I will, but first,” She turned to a small table next to her and raised up a glass of water, holding it next to his face. “You need to drink, or you’ll get dehydrated and I don’t want-”

He cut her off by shooting his hand out, knocking the glass out of her hand. It shattered on the floor and she stared at the broken pieces for a few seconds, the smile wiped off of her face instantly.

She sighed deeply, then crouched down and began to pick up the shards with her bare hands, not even flinching as they dug into her skin. She put the handful of pieces back on the table and wiped down her blazer, smearing blood down it. Paul was horrified.

“I’ll come back later.” Melissa smiled, too widely. “Next time I’ll remember to tie down your wrists, too.”


	2. Terms and conditions

Melissa was true to her word. The next time Paul saw her, she came down the steps of the basement with a fresh glass of water in one hand and two leather belts in the other. He’d tried to struggle as she secured him, but he felt too weak, too tired. She’d looped each belt around his wrists then tied them to the metal bars under the table, making it almost impossible for him to move his arms.

“Why are you doing this?” He asked. Her eyelashes fluttered as she blinked in concentration. She was so pretty, so mild mannered, he never would have expected her to be capable of something so terrible, and yet. 

“You need to drink.” She said, ignoring his question, raising the glass up to his dry lips. When he refused, she tilted his head back and pried open his jaw, pouring the water in slowly. He almost choked, then accepted it, gulping it down as he realized how thirsty he was.

Afterwards she praised him, then clapped her hands happily, like a teenage girl.

“Why am I here?” He tried again.

“I’m...I need you for something. Something extraordinary.” Her eyes lit up and she clasped her hands together.

“Why _me_? I- I- I’m the most ordinary guy you could have picked, I always read the terms and conditions and I get out of breath when I run upstairs, I’m not exactly special.” He tried to joke.

“Don’t say that, Paul! Of course you’re special.” She said, like a proud mother. It was chilling.

“Please let me go.” He begged. “I won’t tell anyone what happened, I’ll- I’ll chalk it up to work stress and never bring it up again-”

“I can’t let you leave.” 

“But-”

“I’m not letting you leave!” She slammed her hand down close to Paul’s head, he jolted in shock. “Not now. Not anytime soon, okay? Besides,” She sounded breathless, and laughed almost hysterically. “I already sent a text to Mister Davidson from your phone. You’re resigned, Paul.”

Paul felt his heart sink. Only the people at his job would even consider looking for him, if they weren’t concerned, if they didn’t know he was gone...

He gulped, then put on his best fake smile.

“Could you at least untie me? I-I’m claustrophobic, I don’t like being held down.”

“I wish I could! I really do but I can’t take any chances, not with what’s at stake.” 

“...What _is_ at stake?” Paul asked. She didn’t reply, just smiled again. 

“You’ll find out soon enough. Here,``she said, offering him another glass full of a deep red liquid. “It’s just cranberry juice.”

“I thought you said you only had water.”

She went silent, moving the glass to his lips.

“Don’t worry about it.”

He took a sip, knowing that if he didn’t do it willingly she would make him drink again. He coughed, the ‘cranberry juice’ tasted strongly of chemicals, and he tried to purse his lips to avoid drinking any more. Melissa’s other hand grabbed a fistful of his hair, and yanked his head back, forcing the vile cocktail down his throat.

When she was satisfied with how much he’d drank, she stopped. He choked and gagged, coughing out as much of the liquid as possible, staining his white shirt.

“What the hell was that?!” He yelled when he’d recovered.

“I said not to worry. Oh, but I’ll need to monitor your vitals in case it kills you.”

_“What?!”_

“Don’t worry! You won’t die, probably, maybe.”

That didn’t comfort Paul one bit, and he started to hyperventilate, his throat feeling sore from whatever he’d just been forced to drink. 

“God! You’re gonna kill me!” 

Melissa smiled and placed a hand on his warm forehead, stroking comfortingly.

“I’m not going to kill you. Not yet.”


	3. Truth

For the first few minutes after drinking whatever Melissa had forced down his throat, Paul didn’t feel like anything was amiss. 

Sure, he still had a pounding sore head, his throat still felt raw and scratchy, and he was pretty sure he’d had at least two panic attacks in that short amount of time, but he didn’t feel anything unusual. 

Melissa shone a light into his eye, holding his lids open with her fingers. 

“Pupils are dilated, I’ll need to make note of that.” She mumbled.

“Is that a bad thing?” He asked, a bead of sweat dripping down his face. She looked surprised for a second, not realising that she was speaking aloud.

“Not necessarily.” She clicked the flashlight off and put it on the small table next to her. 

Next she felt his pulse, holding his wrist with two fingers and her thumb. 

“On the fast side but that’s understandable, you must be frightened.”

“You think?!” He exclaimed, anger building up inside of him.

He just wanted to go home. Crawl into bed and stay there for a few weeks. Drink some coffee. He wanted to see Bill again. 

“You know, Bill asked if I wanted to go see a show with him.” He said, quietly. Melissa gave him another one of her pitiful looks. “I should have said yes but I was-...” He pursed his lips, willing himself not to cry. “I was scared.”

“Why?” Melissa was still holding his wrist, but stroked his skin in small, comforting circles. Strangely, it made Paul feel less scared. At least he wasn’t alone.

“I don’t know. We dated for a while after his divorce. I love Alice so much, she’s like a daughter to me. Sometimes I wonder if- if Bill is only keeping me around because of her.”

Paul paused, then furrowed his eyebrows.

“Why am I telling you this?”

Melissa’s eyes lit up and she let go of him, pushing her glasses up with her pointer finger.

“Paul, how old are you?”

“Thirty one.” He said, immediately.

“Where were you born?”

“Kansas. My dad lived in Arkansas and I went to live with him after they split.”

Melissa smiled widely, Paul would have been unsettled if it weren’t for the strange fog he seemed to be in.

“Do you have a crush on anyone?” 

He rolled her eyes at her juvenile question, but couldn’t stop himself from answering.

“There’s a girl at Beanies, the coffee shop. She has nice eyes but I can’t work up the courage to actually talk to her why- why am I telling you all this?!” 

Melissa didn’t say anything, only laughed, putting a hand on her forehead.

“Incredible.” She whispered. “Just incredible.”

Paul winced as he felt a ringing in his ears, shutting his eyes tightly.

“Paul? Paul, what’s wrong?” Melissa shook his shoulders gently.

“I don’t know- my head hurts and my eyes feel like...” 

When Paul opened his eyes, black stars were clouding his vision. He blinked hard, then gasped.

“I- I can’t see- I can't see!”


	4. For me to know

Paul yelled and thrashed on the table, in anger and terror. In seconds, his entire world was reduced to darkness, and he couldn’t do anything about it, he couldn’t even dry the tears from his cheeks. 

“Paul, stay calm, okay? It’s- It’s probably just a side effect from the-”

“The poison you gave me?!”

Melissa sighed, annoyed.

“It wasn’t poison, it was-”

“I don’t care what it was! Let me go _now_!”

“And let you wander off into the streets, as blind as a bat? You’re much safer here with me.” 

Paul groaned in frustration, tugging at his restraints.

Melissa shone a torch in Paul’s eyes once again, staring intently. His pupils were blown wide, and they were bloodshot, from tiredness and stress, but otherwise they seemed normal.

“Can you see the light, Paul?”

“What light? Am I- Am I dying?”

“No, I’m shining a torch in your eyes.”

“Oh. No, I can’t see it.” 

“Hrm.” She clicked the light on and off, noticing that his pupils widened and shrunk. “Reduced blood flow to your eyes could be the cause of it. It’s probably temporary, don’t panic, okay?”

“Don’t panic? That’s easy for you to say, you’re the one with- with functioning eyes!”

“Well,” She fixed her glasses. “Barely.” 

She picked up her clipboard from the small side table and clicked her pen, scribbling down _“AMAUROSIS FUGAX”_ in messy handwriting.

“It should pass in a couple of minutes. In the meantime, why don’t you tell me more about that girl from Beanies?”

“She’s...” Paul started, pursing his lips and mentally kicking himself. He was incapable of keeping a secret, whatever serum Melissa gave him clearly lowered his inhibitions, “Pretty. And kinda short.”

Paul winced and hissed through his teeth as the light above him started to blur into view again.

“She’s nice to me but- but I’ve seen her get angry at shitty customers before. It's cute.” 

“You should ask her out.” Melissa said, writing more notes. Paul laughed, humorlessly.

“You said you’re not letting me go anytime soon, how would I be able to?”

“Hm. That’s true.”

Paul grit his teeth, to stop from saying anything that could get himself killed faster. 

“How are you feeling?” She asked.

“I still can’t see very well but I’m not blind anymore, so that’s good, right?”

“Yes, that’s very good. I don’t need to worry about that, instead I can focus on the next stage of the experiment!” She said, excitedly, Paul could practically hear her smile as she spoke.

“Wait, Experiment? What are you experimenting with?” 

“That’s for me to know,” She leaned forward and booped his nose with the tip of her finger, “And you to find out!”


	5. Four hours

Paul had been captive for approximately four hours, not counting the time he’d spent knocked out in the back of Melissa’s truck. So far, he’d already been tied down, forced to drink a strange flask that rendered him temporarily blind, he’d had three panic attacks and contemplated his existence and the meaning of life more times than he could even keep track of. 

His head hurt, his tears dried against his cheeks and made them feel tacky and gross. The basement was freezing cold, but Paul felt hot and feverish, his shirt was sticking to him. That foul tasting liquid still stained his dry lips. The room smelled metallic, coppery, and it made his stomach churn. 

He tried to wriggle out of the tight belts restraining his wrists, only managing to rub his skin raw in the process. He groaned in frustration and banged his head against the metal. 

The movement made the table shift slightly, and Paul raised his head, confused. He shifted, moving his body to the side, and the table moved too. He laughed, quietly at first, progressing to a cackle as he realized just how _stupid_ he was.

It had taken Paul approximately four hours to realize that the table he was tied to was on _wheels_.


End file.
